Monday, February 1, 2021

Playing the Part - Chapter 1

 “Playing the Part”


How far would you go to “stay in character” in order to play a part?  How far is it acceptable for others to go in “helping” you to “stay in character” in order to play a part?


Jake Stevens is a down on his luck aspiring actor and model.  His best friend and roommate comes up with a part which could really help Jake make it big.  Problem is, the part involves modeling women’s clothes for an upcoming major new fashion line.  Jake accepts the “gig” as he needs the work and it will help his friend as well.


But for Jake, a guy, to pull off playing the part of a woman means a lot of dedication to “staying in character” on his part.  A dedication that the people around him seem exceptionally helpful in providing.  All too helpful, in fact.  Jake soon finds he’s losing himself in the character who’s part he is playing but can’t help himself from doing so.  Can he stop himself from losing himself?  Should he even try?  Especially when it all feels so right and feels so good.  Feels so very, very good…


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This is the longest tale I’ve worked up to date.  This first “chapter” doesn’t even reach a third of what I’ve currently written and even that isn’t finished yet!  Jake has lots of adventures here.  And faces lots of “challenges.”  The X rating applies to the tale as a whole.  It’s appropriate for this first part but it does take a bit to build up to where it fits appropriately.  The “Mind Altered, Hypnosis, Brainwashed” and “Identity Death” categories very much apply here!


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Playing the Part – Chapter 1


Day 1: 

Keeping a journal? Keeping it daily?  Seriously?  Sounds more like a “diary” than a “journal.”  And the whole thing seems more egotistical or what some chicks would do than what guys do.  But, Paul said it helped him when he was getting into acting and his boss recommended when he started with his latest gig.  So, if it worked for him.  Seems kinda girly but what the hell.  He asked me about it a couple of time now so, just to shut him up – ha!  I’ll do it. I, Mr. Jake Stevens, am now keeping a daily journal.  So there.

Day 10:

I really appreciate Paul’s helping me out like he has but, damn!  He got me all spun up about doing this “vintage fashion photo shoot” thing.  I thought it’d just be for one day’s photography - a “shoot” – not a month’s long campaign thing.  And he never said anything about it being in girl’s clothes.  Or as he made a point of pointing out – in “women’s clothes.”  

My acting skills are good but I’m a guy, not a woman.  But it’s just modeling so no voice or acting as a woman.  Just straight up fashion photo shoot stuff.  And the producer of the campaign is okay with it.  Seriously?  That’s weird.  Paul says it’s because I’m the same height and size of the girl who bailed on them?  Really?  She must’ve been a damn big girl then.  Not fat, just tall.  Paul said she was “statuesque.”  I kidded him about the look he got in his eyes when he was talking about her.  And I kidded him that I was flattered he thought I looked enough like a woman - even a “statuesque woman” to fill in for her.  I had to reassure him I was just kidding.  

I am grateful to Paul.  I know what bind having the other half of the marketing campaign drop out at the last minute was for him.  The months that was going on were pretty hard on him, stress-wise and emotionally.  He was really strung out for a while there.  Paul apparently was apparently the guy sticking up for when she was getting difficult with the production and her suddenly bailing didn’t look good on him.  And his finding a replacement – even being a dude – did a lot to make up for it.  And I appreciate how Paul has let me crash in the second bedroom of his place since Debbie and I broke up.  This gig will help me get back on my feet and get my own place.  Paul reminds me not to call it just a “gig” but to call it a “role” as it’ll help “get my head into the character.”

Day 11:

A “spa day?”  What the hell?  I know how to shave my own face, thanks.  And I can shave my legs and arms for any costume or outfit they hand me.  So, shaving down my arms and legs isn’t a problem.  I don’t need to go to a “spa” for that.  But they’re paying and it came as part of the contract for the role.  She must’ve been a real dumb bitch to have bailed even with this in her contract.  I was worried that they’d laugh at me going to a spa.  Paul said it was cool because the spa was in West Hollywood.  The gay part of town.  Yay me!  I don’t have a problem with that.  I’m a straight dude and am smart enough to take it as a compliment if some gay guy tries hitting on me.  Turns out that Paul had already set up the appointment there.  He got me in so quick and for the “full meal deal” because one of the guys who works there owed him a favor.  I had to tell him I was only kidding him about it when I asked “what sort of favor is that, big boy?”

Day 12:

Laser hair removal.  Laser fucking hair removal.  Holy shit!  That’s fucking permanent.  Paul tells me it’s not but at the least it’ll take months to grow back in.  No, he didn’t tell me about this beforehand.  He says he did but I’m not buyin’ it.  And I didn’t tell them “no” at the spa because I was out of it.  I don’t know why I got so buzzed and loopy or sleepy or whatever it was.  But I was zoned. It must’ve been the wine they served and maybe the heat of hot tub and the alcohol got to me.  I dunno but I’m glad I was out of it while they did it because I know that shit hurts.  Still though I’m now fucking hairless from my eyebrows down now!  Fucking hairless!  Yeah, “hairless and smooth like a baby’s butt” as Paul put it. He was very funny.  Sure, it’s gonna make wearing those dresses easier and shit.  Fine.  Paul tells me to look on the bright side of things.  Got it.  Jesus fucking Christ he can be relentless.  I didn’t ask for the fucking laser stuff but I’m glad it came with the package so he won’t get in any trouble for the expense.  And yes, it is gonna make wearing the outfits simpler.  No stray hairs – no fucking hairs, period!  He made me laugh when he told me how I’m “gonna save a bundle on razors and shaving cream not having to do my face now.”  Yeah, a bundle.  I wonder if he has any more surprises he’s gonna “forget” to tell me about?

Day 13

This was some pretty elaborate shit.  I thought he said I was her size so that the costuming and outfits would fit right off the bat.  Turns out it’s just her height that’s the match.  So it’s no big deal to do alterations to get the exact fit on the outfits and they were planning on doing that anyway so this isn’t any new or added expense.  He was right that a waist cincher would help.  I told him that if he call it a corset I’d smack him upside the head!  He’s such a wise ass…

At the “fitting” I got to meet the producer / director guy for this campaign, Mr. Simms.  He’s a nice guy.  Very understanding.  He complimented me up and down like I’m the big hero here.  I appreciated that but pointed out that I’m just stepping in to help out a friend who’s helped me.  The way Mr. Simms was laying it on you’d think I was some sort of angel or something.  Paul kidded me that “Oh, if he only knew!” hah!  Good one there, sport.  Thanks for the support, Paul!

Day 14:

Poise?  What’s this about poise?  Yeah, I can take a pose alright.  And “deportment?”  This was supposed to be just photos, not live action or video or anything where I’d have to walk or move like a woman.  But Paul said it was in the contract already?  What the fuck?  Who was this woman who quit that she didn’t already know how to move like a woman already?  But, Mr. Simms wanted her to move in a “special way?”  “A special way?”  Seems Mr. Simms is a perfectionist and wants things done exactly his way.  Okay, if he’s paying the bill – and he is – then I’ll learn to move in that “special way” he’s paying for.  There’s this “deportment” teacher who is supposed to teach me move in that way.  Teach me instead of that dumb bitch who bailed on this gig.  Sorry, bailed on this “role.”

Day 15:

Damn but, this shit’s hard!  At least Ms. Cambrai is patient with me.  She’s a knock out.  Gotta be in her 50s.  Hard to tell.  She was dressed to the 9s.  Ultra feminine in her “1950s / vintage look” outfits but, since she’s supposed to teach me how “ladies of the past deported themselves around the gentlemen of the past” she fit the part.  The folks from the fitting session the other day even had women’s shoes in my size for me.  Ms. Cambrai – her first name is Natalie but she made clear that I am to address her as Ms. Cambrai while she’s instructing me – immediately slapped my hands away from the four inch heel ones and had me wear the “kitten heel” ones of just two inches.  The first ones looked sexy.  I like how high heels look on a babe.  But, she was right, I’d have killed myself in those four inch ones.  The “kitten heel” ones were hard enough.  My feet were screaming in no time.  But, her instructions were really helpful.  

“It’s all about poise, my dear.  Remember to hold yourself as a lady and you will find moving in a lady’s shoes will be second nature.  You will learn to glide across a room in them – if you follow my instructions.” She informed me.  She was pleasant enough but, I could tell there was steel there behind those words.  She even broke out his pointer thing of hers.  Looked more a like crop a horse rider would use.  She took to tapping me with it in places where I wasn’t moving or holding myself in the proper fashion.  Shoulders back, chest out, small steps… the whole thing.  After an hour of this I was pretty spent.  She was firm through the entire class time.  At the end when she finally let me know she was pleased with my progress I felt like I’d won the lottery or something.  She just has the effect of making you want to please her.  That’s a great talent for an instructor.

She was also suggested I learn these “poise mantras” by playing some files she had for me.  I could pop ‘em onto my phone and listen to them on my headphones as I practiced moving in my heels each night.  Yeah, I’ve got homework now!  I’d no idea studying for this role would be taking this much work.

At least Paul didn’t kid me too much about my wearing high heels around his house.  He knew what the deal was and appreciated my being so dedicated to the role.  He even suggested it’d make more sense if I was wearing the same sort of hose I’d be wearing when on set.  “Those socks aren’t gonna fit in your shoes the same way as nylons would and so you’ll be learning to walk in them wrong” he told me.  He’s right.  So, I’ll get some pantyhose tomorrow.

Day 16:

Ms. Cambrai agreed with Paul and asked me to wear hose during our deportment classes.  Hell, she said as soon as costuming finishes my outfits I should be wearing them during the classes as well.  Crap!  Today’s lessons went almost as hard as yesterday’s.  Slow progress is better than no progress though!

Paul had some nylons for me once I got home.  Nylons, not pantyhose.  Where the hell did he get nylons?  Especially ones that fit me?  They look damn sexy, I’ll have to admit.  I didn’t think my legs would be at all as attractive as a woman’s but I gotta admit, the nylons do look good.  I can see why some guys could get into cross dressing now.  And yeah, they did feel different walking in the heels with ‘em instead of my socks.

Paul asked me what some of my “poise mantras” were.  I didn’t figure he’d know about them.  I reeled off a couple without even thinking about them and he smiled.  He was happy they were working for me.  I’d just put the files on and hit play.  I didn’t much pay attention to them just would repeat some of the phrases from time to time.  The files had this new agey sort of background music to ‘em so it was easy to do other things as they played.  “A lady is always graceful.  A graceful lady is a lady who pleases her man.  A man is pleased by a graceful lady.  A lady is always graceful.” Was one of the phrases that stuck out.  What the hell that has to do with poise I don’t know.  But, it came in the audio files Ms. Cambrai sent me and I’m not gonna displease her by not dutifully listening to them.  Besides, Paul’s been listening to these “motivational” sound files that Mr. Simms had given him months ago.  Back when he got cast for the lead male model when the production began ramping up earlier in the year.  

It was a big score for my friend and I thought it was fucking awesome for him!  Mr. Simms had wanted him to keep his focus on his role and said he had this whole “subconscious motivational scripting” that Paul could listen to as he slept.  I didn’t think much of it at the time.  And figured that if it helped Paul in his part then, cool.  So now that I was getting the same sorta deal, Paul didn’t give me any shit about it either.

Day 17:

The first of the outfits arrived.  Just a basic “A-line” thing.  Very retro.  Black with white polka dots.  I put it on after I’d rolled up the nylons and clipped ‘em to their garter belt.  That was a retro ten strap thing too.  Putting on panties first was really weird.  That they fit was kinda scary.  The guy doing my measuring during the fitting session was really thorough.  Ms. Cambrai gave me a good tip that I should put the panties on after I’d got the garters snapped.  That way there’d be less to unbuckle and reattach when I had to go piss.  Well, she didn’t say piss.  Not her!  And I didn’t say that when I was around her either!  It was when “a lady needed a moment to refresh herself.”  That turned out to be one of the deportment mantras that just rolled off my tongue without even thinking about it.  Anyway, I thought I was really looking the part in that dress.  Well, except of the hair and makeup.  Ms. Cambrai would have none of it though.  She was almost constantly whacking me with that crop of hers.  I wasn’t standing right, wasn’t turning around right, my hands weren’t poised right, I wasn’t moving right.  Uggghh!  It was a long lesson time.  Two hours today.

Day 18:

Three hours of “deportment” class today.  Ms. Cambrai was aghast that I used the same panties two days in a row without washing them.  I didn’t think it mattered as I only had ‘em on for a couple of hours and that meant they were still clean.  Wrong!  So, part of today’s lesson was “the proper washing of a woman’s intimate apparel.”  My next girlfriend is gonna be hugely surprised when I turn out to know at least as much about washing her undies as she does.  And with what Ms. Cambrai is teaching me about all the varieties of “lady’s undergarments” I’ll definitely know more about that then most women on the planet.

Day 19:

Another dress came from the costume department.  Some flowing evening gown thing.  Ms. Cambrai had me try it on at least.  With its skirt length and everything, she said I’d be flat on my face in no time if I tried walking in it now.  She pegged it as something to work up to.  At least it looked good on me. I had to keep the waist cincher on tight though to get the dress zipped.  Ms. Cambrai said I’d have to diet to ensure I fit into the outfits.  Great.  That too.  But, she suggested I try this protein substitute nutritional shake things from a friend of hers.  She seemed pleased when I said I’d give her friend, Celine, a call about it.  Her smile is radiant when she’s pleased.  Yeah, it’s been a while since I’ve gotten laid so I notice when I manage to make women smile at me now.

Day 20:

Paul had me set up for another spa appointment after my Deportment lesson with Ms. Cambrai.  The timing was tight between the two so I didn’t have time to get out of my dress before the Uber showed up.  Let alone get out of my nylons.  In the rush I must’ve left my underwear at the studio Ms. Cambrai runs.  So, I was stuck wearing panties at the spa.  Turns out that Ms. Cambrai had noted how some of my hairs must’ve gotten missed the first time around so she asked Paul to see if the spa could take care of it.  Well, in for a penny, in for a pound, right?  And if the production company was already paying for it, then what the hell.  They could do a second time ‘round on my legs and torso.  No big deal.  I thought I was being careful with what I was drinking but even with just a few sips of the wine they served I was just as loopy and out of it this time.  My own damn fault.  But it felt really weird to come ‘round afterwards and realize that I’d just had Greg, Paul’s friend that owe him that favor, not only do the laser hair removal but had taken off my panties so that he could make sure I was truly hairless this time.

The guy didn’t just get my pubes, he got between my cheeks!  He told me I should use this cream there for the next couple of days so there’ll be no problems when I wipe from “relieving myself back there” – that’s a Deportment Mantra for taking a shit and wiping it.

I guess I am pretty cool with gay guys when it didn’t unnerve me or anything when I realized that this gay guy, Greg, didn’t just get done lasering away the hair on my body, he didn’t just get done having to handle my cock and balls as he lasered away – lasering the hair on my nuts in the process, he didn’t even just get done parting my cheeks to laser away the hair in my ass crack – my “nether regions” as a Deportment Mantra would express – but he also had to remove my panties to get to it all.  I dunno what this guy must think of me.  I show up to get a “spa treatment” that comes to zap off all my body hair and then get oiled up and lotioned up like some Beverly Hills bimbo.  Then I show up again for more laser work but this time I come in wearing a dress and panties and everything.  I gotta admit it was kind of a rush running around in that dress outside.  The way the skirt part of it moved around and the way the air felt blowing up through it across my junk squeezed into those panties.  I can really see how guys like wearing girl’s clothes.  But, I’ll be glad when this role is over and I can just have it as but one of my many roles in my ascent to stardom!

Day 25:

Been rushed for the past few days.  Deportment lessons every day.  Been out to the production company a lot.  Major costume changes.  Mr. Simms didn’t like the look of what they’d come up with so far.  So, he wanted different outfits.  Part of that is because this gonna be a full line of clothes for both men and women.  So, there’ll be lots of different outfits.  That should involve different models wearing them and not just me and Paul.  I don’t see where the cost savings in just making one set of retro vintage outfits outweighs how customers would react.  That’s why you use different models of different sizes and such so that customers can see how the clothes look on different people.  At least that’s what makes sense to me.  But, I’m not the guy calling the shots here and I’m not the guy paying the bills either.  So, I just went with it.

That meant another fitting session where they took more measurements.  Ms. Cambrai’s friend, Celine, had sent me those nutrition things of hers.  They taste great!  And I feel a lot more energized after I down one.  And I can drink ‘em on the go!  That’s pretty useful for as hectic as things are now with the production changes and new outfits and such.

It also turns out that the shakes Paul was getting since he started this gig are from Celine as well.  His though, are for bulking up.  Mine are for cutting down.  Mr. Simms had suggested it back at the start and was sending Paul a regular supply of them.  Not enough to share ‘cuz I would’ve liked to have use ‘em to.  Paul was getting swole over those months.  Still is, in fact.  Crap!  Now that I’m cutting he’s gonna give me no end of shit about that!  Ah well, the show must go on!!!

Anyway, with all this dressing up stuff I might normally balk at some of this.  I mean, some of what Mr. Simms keeps asking of me does seem a bit much.  But then I remember the role I’m supposed to be performing here is that of a “lady from a more elegant age” and those Deportment Mantras kick in.  So, I’m happy to oblige a gentlemen – “as a true lady always is.”  Hah!  I can recite so many of those Mantras now!  And my being so professional about it helps relieve the tension building among Mr. Simms, Paul, and the production crew.

Day 30:

The new gown came in today.  Well, one of them.  It looked awful on me.  That is, until the costume guy doing the dressing told me “that’s because you ain’t got no tits, honey!”  Leave it to a gay man to tell a straight guy in a dress he doesn’t have tits!  It didn’t help that he was right either.  I don’t know how the fitting guy screwed up like this.  

One of the things about 50’s fashion or vintage fashion in general is the notable lack of bust size.  Boob jobs didn’t exist for women back then and most women – “surprise, surprise!” aren’t these Double D stacked babes like so many girls now are here in Hollywood.  Today, thanks to the miracle of silicon, so many are these busty babes that lotsa guys figure that was the way it always was.  That this new fashion line is made for today’s women means they are made for today’s tits on today’s women.  Crap.  I half expected Mr. Simms to tell me to get a boob job too!  Hah!  Even as a desperate actor helping out a friend, I’d draw the line at having to undergo surgery for a role.  Any role.  But especially as a guy.  

Fortunately, the costume guy the production company employs had some tricks to apply.  He knows some “ladies” who wear the appropriate sized fake ones as part of their stage routines i.e. drag queens / gay guys in dresses.  Soon enough I was having these fucking damn basketballs glued onto my chest.  No, they weren’t really as large as actual basketballs but, damn if they seemed to be when they first took ‘em out of their shipping box.  Good thing I was already lasered hairless on my chest or the adhesive would’ve been a real problem.  As it is, the things are gonna be stuck on me for a couple weeks now.  Taking ‘em off earlier would involve using the more powerful solvents instead of letting the adhesive naturally wear off and release itself.  And that might eat away at the silicon stuff they use for the boobs.  Oh, right, excuse me: “use for a lady’s endowment.”  Gotta stay in character.

Christ, here I am rationalizing that I’ve now got these tits glued to me and they’ll be there for weeks to come!  But, the show must go on!! Damn that’s getting corny to keep on saying!

Day 31:

Ms. Cambrai didn’t bat an eyelash on her gorgeous face when I showed up sprouting the rack I now had.  It did however, meant I had to learn to walk all over again!  Crap!  - “Oh dear” (gotta be ladylike when swearing)  – I wonder how long those damn Deportment Mantras are gonna be rolling around in my brain.  Like some damn catchy song melody that becomes an ear worm!

She was right though, that’s a lot of weight projecting well outside my body so it does throw my posture and deportment off.  So, more time spent with her in her studio.  And more prodding and popping with her crop.  The month or so of the time already spent with her was paying off though, by the end of the three hours with her today she was smiling again.  I love seeing her smile!

It didn’t bother me when she suggested I should be wearing makeup while being dressed during our lessons.  That would help, I admit.  I mean, it looks really jarring to see everything so feminine looking below the neckline but there’s my regular ol’ mug above the pearls around my throat.  Yes, she suggested I start wearing some of the accessories that will also be part of the new fashion line.  “Knowing how to properly make use of a one’s jewelry is essential to a proper lady’s deportment” after all.  Gotta love those Mantras.

Day 35:

I’m wearing dresses all the time now.  Well, “women’s clothes” that is.  Mr. Simms says they’ve the full line they want to have tried out and displayed.  So, not only evening gown or dress up stuff but, thankfully, even more casual stuff.  All retro / vintage, of course.  So I was relieved when I found jeans in their new line.  Jeans and some denim shirts.  Now I could at least not look too out of place running around between checking out locations and getting to Ms. Cambrai’s studio what have you.  Always having to wear those 50s’s housewife outfits was getting too many strange looks.  Not the least because the dresses were out of place in looking too refined.  “Too refined for a proper lady to be rushing around in so!”  Well, I’m not a proper lady and I do have to be rushing around.  So, their “casual line” has been a life saver.  Still doing it with the boobs though.  But the tops are loose fitting enough that I can kinda disguise ‘em enough for being out in public.

Paul was actually relived when I mentioned wearing makeup.  He was kinda embarrassed about having to ask me about starting it.  Mr. Simms wanted to be sure I looked natural in the outfits and that meant they had to get the right sort of makeup style for my complexion and face.  And that meant time spent in the makeup chair.

It was fascinating and tedious at the same time.  We were doing some preliminary photos and they wanted to check out the lighting and how one of the dresses would look.  So, I was not only getting makeup done but also in my dress doing it.  My dress and my “girls” filling out that dress.  I don’t think my rack looks at all what a “proper lady” would look like from the 50s.  But, “a gal has gotta do what a gal has gotta do!”

The makeup session was an exercise of having it all applied then checking out how it worked with different lighting and such and then having it all removed only to have it all reapplied but different and then… Yeah, it was tedious.

The guy doing my face was happy I was being such a good sport about it.  It’s how he earns his living and I didn’t want to let him down by being bitchy how tedious it all was.  And we both tried keeping it as fun as possible despite how long it was taking.  So, yeah, I flirted with him.  It’s what a girl would do, right?  We both had a great laugh with that.  Paul caught some of it and laughed to.  He brought over Mr. Simms and he was beaming at it.  “You’re really getting into character aren’t you… ‘my dear’” he said as comically as he could.  We all laughed.  But I could tell he was pleased and that really made me happy.

I don’t know what it is with Mr. Simms.  The guy just has this way about him.  I mean, he’s flattering as all get out with me and I know it’s just his style and it’s how he handles the talent he has to work with so as to get the most out of them.  Some directors can be real jerks.  Mr. Simms though?  He’s swell.  I mean, when he starts praising me for the work I’m doing and how hard I’m applying myself to the role it just makes me beam.  Like some “giddy little girl when her high school crush smiles at her” is how Paul teased me about it.  I punched him in the arm.  We both laughed.  But he’s right.  I really like it when I’ve done well enough that Mr. Simms compliments me.  So, I really want to please him.

And Paul doesn’t give me any guff about that either.  Mr. Simms has got him motivated that way as well.  That says a lot about how good Mr. Simms is with his talent.

Day 40:

Ms. Cambrai really likes how I’ve been progressing with my new figure.  Both how I’m moving with my new “endowment” and how I’m showing far more of a “feminine deportment” overall.  I was thrilled when she told me that.  She was also pleased with how my makeup skills are coming along.  That wasn’t as much of a surprise to me.  I am an actor, after all.  And back in high school drama I had to learn the basics of putting on my makeup for the stage.  Stage makeup is vastly different from what any girl would wear out in public or to a club or anything.  But the basics are the same.  So, I had a good starting point.  Doing the vintage style makeup they’re looking for with this product line also helps as it’s a bit heavier than is normal for today’s women.

It took some practice getting it right.  The production company’s makeup guy, Jason, was super helpful in giving me pointers.  He sent me a bunch of links to online stuff.  And Paul said that one of Greg’s friends – the guy who lasered my privates at the spa – could come around some nights to help me even more.

So, the production company decided on this “blond goddess” look for leading off in their line for me.  And I now have this flowing blond wig to get used to.  My own dark brown hair isn’t long enough to take its place.  I’ll be stuck with the wig for now.  Jason said I should go with extensions.  I think he’s right.  They’ll be a lot more comfortable.  Wearing a big heavy wig like that gets really hot really fast if you’re doing anything more than just looking pretty sitting still.  If it weren’t for the heat from the lighting during a photo session then I might be able to get away with.  But the last thing they’d want – or I’d need – would be for their leading woman to be breaking out in a sweat because her wig was too hot!

It was really different today with Ms. Cambrai.  I was fully dressed in this lovely evening gown, my heels now are five inches!  Go me!  And I had that new wig on as well.  We practiced my “gliding through the room as if I owned it” strutting.  Well, you’re not gliding if you’re strutting but I got the idea.  I mean the placing of your feet directly in front of you as you walk in heels – which is about the only way you can walk in heels to look even remotely feminine – means you can get a pretty awesome sway going there with your buns.  Lord knows I’ve admired women walking in their high heels for precisely that reason.  And now here I am doing it too!

As least Ms. Cambrai isn’t whapping me as much with that crop thing of hers – “No, young lady.  It is not a crop it is a pointer and I am using it to point out your mistakes!” she corrected me (pointed out to me, hah!) when I asked her why she was cropping me so much.  I’ve not made that mistake again!

Day 43:

I’m definitely getting extensions.  That wig is gorgeous but it’s too damn hot.  Plus I must really be running myself down with all this bustling about.  The combination of all that got to me today at Ms. Cambrai’s studio.  It was hotter than usual in the practice room.  Something about the AC being screwed up in the building.  And she was running me ‘round pretty intensely with practicing my “strutting with poise” bit.  I’d a new dress that required me to pull in my latest waist cincher even more.  I’ve already shed thirty pounds!  Celine, that friend of hers who came up with those nutritional shakes?  She should market them!  They really peel off the pounds!

But I must’ve let myself get dehydrated or run down or something.  I got all wobbly and had to sit down lest I fell down.  Popping the wig off really helped cool me off.  And Ms. Cambrai had me drink this chilled herbal tea she makes for herself.  I felt a lot better after that.  I was all apologetic for letting myself get into such a state.  But Ms. Cambrai was super nice about it.  She even joked that I’d just “swooned” like a proper lady.  We both laughed at that and then she smiled at me as I sat there on the cushion looking up at her.  It has been far, far too long!  I was really glad that the girdle rig I was wearing that day had my endowment fully pressed flat otherwise I’d have been tenting my dress and that would’ve been super awkward.  I don’t want her to think I’m perving on her.  

I just want to keep pleasing her so she smiles at me more.  I hope she didn’t put two and two together because I did just keep looking up at her for a while.  She was talking at me and her voice just sounded so nice and I must’ve let myself kind of drift off a bit.  Her fingers stroking my face snapped me out of it but they felt really, really nice on my cheek.  She smiled again and said “I was obviously a well and truly spent woman!”  I know she’s helping me get the right mindset for my role but she’s never acknowledge my being a guy under all the makeup and dresses and lingerie.  She only refers to me in the feminine.  Oddly, I don’t really mind that.  Just so long as she’s smiling at me when she does so.

We left off with her saying I should use the same herbal tea mix she does.  Celine makes that too.  She gave me a bag of the stuff and also said she’d tell Celine to send me some of and change up the mix of the nutrition shakes.  I think I’ve shed enough pounds but I’ll go with whatever Ms. Cambrai says!

Day 50:

Those new nutrition shakes and that herbal tea are really super great!  I feel a lot more energized that I’m using them.  I’ve even shed some more pounds!  Paul noticed this and I was happy about that.  Mr. Simms complimented me on how trim my figure was in the latest outfits the company sent over.  I almost did actually swoon then!  Hah!  No, not really but it did make me feel happy inside.  Ms. Cambrai suggested I start doing special workouts to build up my legs a bit more.  My legs and my butt.  Oops.  Excuse me.  My “derriere.”  Not weight workouts but more aerobic, gymnastic stuff.  Great!  Now it’s something else I have to add to my schedule.

Paul, of course, already knew just the place where I’d fit right in even fully dressed up.  And he’d already gotten me signed up.  Paul is so good to me.  I really like how he takes care of me.  Just like a gentlemen should take care of a lady.  I only hope I’m being enough of a “proper lady” taking care of him.  I had to change up my make up so that it’d stay stuck on my face even if I was sweating some.  And by now I’ve got the extensions on.  That was super fun!  Paul had that all set up as well.  It was at the same salon where Greg’s friend works out at.  This’d be Steven, the one who Greg said could help me with my makeup skills.  And it’d only be Steven when he was in boy mode.  When he was in girl mode he… she… was Louann and Louann “was fierce!”  And he had a great sense of humor.  “She” really put me at ease in doing my extensions.  

I’m pretty pleased with myself how easily I’m getting along with all these gay men that I’m working with and dealing with as part of this role.  Especially when so many of them are so femmed up like Louann was as she was doing my new “do.”  It was fun playing the part and getting into girl mode with her as we flirted to pass the time.  Her salon has these big wall windows facing the street so that the folks walking by on the sidewalk outside can see right in.  And it also allows for us girls inside to do our own people watching.  

Louann was scathing when it came to the lack of fashion sense on the women passing by.  Even though I knew she was being over the top in her drag queen persona I was picking up on pointers about what those women were getting wrong.  I also had to admit that her commentary on the men walking by was pretty accurate to.  I’m not at all worried about my heterosexuality to not note when some guys had a nice physique or were well dressed.  I couldn’t argue with her that some of the guys had well shaped butts.  I wouldn’t go as far as she did calling them “bootylicious!” though we laughed when she did.  And that did inspire me to get focused on those workouts to make sure my butt looked good in those dresses.  I’d leave it to her whether or not that meant I was “bootylicious” too.

Day 70:

Still a whirlwind.  Lots of changes and running around.  My deportment lessons are continuing.  I’m doing so much better now.  My hair is perfect with the extensions.  I’ve got regular appointments with Louann to keep my hair styled and extensions nicely formed.  We had to take them out so that she could color my hair more exactly to match.  She said the coloring process would take a while so she asked if I wouldn’t mind if she set me up in the back room where I wouldn’t be disturbed at it all set.  I could even catch a nap during that time.  As ragged as I was running with all the production stuff I happily agreed.  I just popped in the latest of Ms. Cambrai’s Deportment audio files to play in my headphone and let Louann do her stuff.  She did a facial too.  And then said she wanted to try these new “relaxation goggle” thingies.  It was the latest super fun stuff that she saw in the new issue of Cosmo.  I figured that if it would help me get some much needed sleep or relaxation then why not!  

With the earphones plugged in, Ms. Cambrai’s audio file playing and those goggle thingies going I was out like a light.  It took a bit for her to wake me up from it.  She joked with me that I looked so pretty laying there asleep I seemed just like “some Disney princess awaiting her Prince Charming to kiss her and wake her up.”  She said she would’ve kissed but she wasn’t no damn prince but a princess!  And didn’t know if that’d have the same effect.  I think I blushed at that.  Actually blushed. She did look pretty.  It has been so long since I’ve been kissed by a girl that, at this point, maybe being kissed by a “gurl” would be an acceptable substitute!  Hah!  No, not really.  She’s pretty alright but she’s still Steven under that pretty face.  Her lips did look damn kissable though.

Day 73:

Dialog.  Seriously?  Dialog?  This was supposed to be just a fashion shoot.  Still pictures, that was all.  Then there’d be commercials with live action.  Okay, but when’s the last time you heard the voices of any fashion models?  I know, right?  As if!  But, Mr. Simms said there’d be some spoken word requirements for some of the commercials.  That meant dialog.  And that meant, for me, that I’d have to learn to talk in a feminine manner.  No, not just falsetto but like an actual lady.  Like an “elegant lady would speak in her elegant way…” as Ms. Cambrai explained it.  And whaddayaknow!  She’s now my voice coach too.  She’s apparently helped train plenty of girls on what it meant to speak properly.  I put on my best (i.e. really bad) Cockney accent and said she was “A genuine Professor Higgins, you is!”  She raised an eyebrow at that and, in her best governess voice, flatly informed me that if this meant I was her ‘Eliza Doolittle’ then that simply would not do!”  ‘Eliza,’ we both agreed, didn’t fit with the part I was to play in the production.  She then came up with the name ‘Diana’ for my female character.  Diana.  I like that.  Diana.  It fits.  I had visions of me in Gal Gadot’s ‘Wonder Woman’ costume but Ms. Cambrai squashed that in a heartbeat.  “No,” she stated emphatically, “not ‘Diana’ and is in the Amazonian warrior princes – that’s far too masculine a persona for you in your part.  Instead, it is ‘Diana’ as in Diana the Princess of Wales in England.  She was a truly elegant lady and that is who you should model yourself after for the part.  A woman of refined elegance and taste who could be dazzling and graceful.”  When she put it that way?  Hell ya, I’ll be a princess Diana!

Day 75:

I have no life.  Well, no life outside of this production.  All this for just a fashion campaign!  Who knew?  So, up early and off to the yoga studio for my exercise sessions.  It’s kinda weird how many heads I’m turning even when just in my yoga outfits.  I’ve a sports bra to hold the “girls” in place and usually either a baggy sweat shirt of that or some big T-shirt.  And with my hair and all, I’m super easy now to mistake as being an actual woman.  Unless you get a view of my face in the mornings.  I only put on the most basic of my makeup for the yoga sessions.  I feel kinda naked walking out the front door without at least some coloring on.  

Bunches of guys have been hitting on me as I’m running around even in such plain jane outfits like that.  Some even continue hitting on me despite seeing my face without the usual full glam on – or as Louann says, the “full slap.”  I’ve already learned to try and “pull in” my voice to fend off those jerks.  Some of the guys, even here in LA, don’t like finding out the babe they’re hitting on is a dude.  No real problems, just some angry guys going off in a huff.  Aside from those few, I have to admit it is kinda of a rush to be turning the heads of so many guys – and no few women – who like the image they see.  I’ve caught no few guys just smiling and turning all the way ‘round just to keep watching me as I pass them on the sidewalk.  That I put that smile on their faces – that I made them happy just by being pretty – makes me feel oddly happy inside.  “An elegant lady enjoys pleasing the men and women in her life.  Spreading joy to others simply by being an elegant lady herself is a worthy achievement to aspire to…” another Mantra that always springs to mind when I’m noticing people noticing me.

But it’s yoga in the mornings, then back to shower and stuff to Paul’s where I get my full face on and a dress and then off to Ms. Cambrai’s for more Deportment lessons.  Now it’s even longer with her each day as there’s now the voice coaching going on.  My throat gets really parched from all that work trying to soften my voice.  Ms. Cambrai’s herbal teas are super helpful with that.  I’m as diligent a student of hers as I can be.  Doing so means I progress more and that makes Ms. Cambrai smile.  I’ll about do anything to have her smile at me.

Day 77:

Mr. Simms had one of the Sound Dept. guys put together this voice analyzer thingie for me to use.  He had me download it on my laptop and I play it every night for a while before turning in.  I put on the headphones I used to use when I was gaming.  “Gaming?”  Hah!  No time for that anymore!  The headsets have a microphone boom and are super good at blocking out external noises.  I get the voice analyzer thingie running and it has me speak all these phrases.  It then runs the sound of my voice through its programming to come up with a more female sounding version.  Then I try and work my voice to match that female version.  The graphics are super cool to watch.  The program depicts the soundwave of the female version of my voice – Diana’s voice – and then when I try and match it pairs that soundwave against the other.  So I can see where my intonations are off.  It takes some focus and a lot of work but I’m getting better at letting Diana do the talking!

Then each night I drink some of Celine’s tea – her “sleepy time” blend – to help me get to sleep quicker.  I pop in the earbuds and bring up Ms. Cambrai’s audio files to play more of those “Deportment Mantras.”  I know it might be cutting corners a bit but I’ve not found any problem remembering those Mantras despite being sound asleep when I hear them.  Ms. Cambrai is always pleased when I recite the latest ones back to her.  So, that’s all that matters!

I used to think it odd that Paul would listen to his motivational stuff when he was sleeping.  He said he used his earphones for that at night and to block out the noise so he could sleep better.  I always fell asleep just fine.  At least back then.  Now?  Celine’s tea is something I have a cup of each night in order to truly get the deep sleep I use.  Paul just pops some supplements Mr. Simms recommended and then he heads off to bed.  Surprising how similar our nightly routines are but for really different outcomes.

Anyway, my days are hectic like this seven days a week now.  No let up.  I can’t plan on doing anything else as the production schedule is always bouncing around all the time.  So, I’m pretty isolated.  But that’s okay as I’m too busy to get out much otherwise.  Hopefully, this’ll change soon once the production gets done.

Day 90:

Wow.  Three months!  The time has flown!  Three months and they’re still not ready for doing the photo shoots.  They keep changing the fashion designs back there at corporate.  And that means more new outfits for me to wear.  And that means more fittings.  Oh, what a girl must endure – new dresses all the time!  Hah!

I’m on my second set of boobs… “feminine endowments” as the adhesive on the first ones finally wore off.  Unfortunately, wearing them so long had damaged them a bit.  So, they had to order new ones.  The new ones seem lighter to me.  Perhaps I’m just used to wearing them now that I don’t notice the weight as much.  They didn’t seem as big taking them out of the package either.  Once glued onto my chest though, they had the exact same measurements and fill out my dressed and my bras the same way.  Jimmy, the costume guy who’d come up with the first set, told me that they’d switched vendors so perhaps it was just a different sort of silicon they used that made for the difference.

I also think it’s because my pecs are going soft.  I’ve not hit any weights since this whole “vintage photo shoot” thing started.  I asked Paul about it, okay, he said I whined about it.  And then he said I pouted about that when he pointed it out.  I did not whine and nor did I pout!  He can be such a card!  Anyway, he told me I was just being silly.  That I was playing a female character here and getting all muscled and stuff just wouldn’t do!  Not for the 50’s look anyway.  If I was playing a female bodybuilder then that’d be different.  But I was fulfilling the character of “an elegant lady from an elegant past era.”  So, filling out my dresses with muscle wasn’t “in role.”  Hmmph!  Well, I can always hit the iron once this production is done.  I’m not happy though at how much ground I’ve lost to Paul in the muscle department.  He’s hitting the iron something fierce and is looking just awesome from it.

It did feel super awkward walking around without my breasts though.  Fake as they are, I’ve come to view them as part of me.  They’ve been part of me – literally - for months now.  It took me a bit to notice that these new breast forms are… well… I had to look back at the pictures of me in the previous breasts to be sure.  But the nipples on these new ones are a lot more pronounced.

I asked Mr. Simms about it and he said they looked great!  His smile was so wide as he was taking me in that day.  I was in this new dress straight from the latest revisions from corporate.  Pure 50s kitsch.  A “poodle skirt, saddle shoes – thank god, no high heels in those! – and this awesome blue angora sweater.  My hair was wrapped up in this little bandana bit.  I looked like I could’ve just walked off the set of “Grease” after doing a dance number with Danny Zuko.  The idea of my doing that in place of Olivia Newton-John was actually kind of dreamy when I thought more about it.  Travolta was really in his prime then.  And how the two of them moved together was pretty steamy for its time.  I think I could’ve pulled it off.  From the way Mr. Simms reacted to me in that outfit I know I could’ve pulled it off.

He got all silly and started acting like some zombie monster character reaching his hand out toward my breasts and saying in a monster voice “Boobies!  Zombie man must squeeze boobies!  Boobies!!!” I laughed.  Then I got into moment and “shrieked” at him: “Oh no!  Mr. Simms I’m not that sort of girl!”  I couldn’t keep it together after that and busted up laughing.  He had to laugh too.  Though, he did get his hands on my breasts to give ‘em a squeeze.  And I was kinda flattered and glad that he did.

“Don’t worry babe, they look great.  And if the nipples are too much we’ll just get a little padding to smooth ‘em out.  Either that, or the guys in Post will wave their magic digital wands and you’ll be safely nipple-less in all the pictures.”  

He gave me a big hug after that and I wrapped my arms around him and hugged him back.  It was nice.  He’s so supportive of me in this role.  He’s super helpful in everything.  I’m really grateful for it all.  I really like making him happy.  That really is my part to play in all this.  It’s only what a “proper lady would do for her man” or so goes another Deportment Mantra.

Day 123:

I’m going nuts with this.  Seriously.  The stress of all this prep but not getting the production going is getting to me.  And staying in this feminine persona for long isn’t helping.  I’ve not been out of a dress or some sort of woman’s clothing for months now.  I’ve acquired so much of that it’s all I have now.  Paul said Mr. Simms thought he make space for all the outfits they are sending me by packing up my guy clothes and sending them to a storage unit he has in the Valley.  I pouted at that.  Yes, actually pouted this time.  Paul and Mr. Simms do seem to pay more attention when I do that.  Paul said I could get those clothes back once the production was over as I’d have to give back all the outfits anyway.  I wasn’t happy at that either.  I wasn’t happy at not even having any boy clothes to wear nor was I happy at having to give back all these fabulous dresses and outfits and shoes and bras and teddys and all those nylons either.  I really pouted then!

Day 131:

Both Mr. Simms and Paul said I was getting too wound up over things.  They’re right.  I am.

Day 133:

Ms. Cambrai had Celine send me a different sort of herbal tea to help me sleep better.  And she came up with these “meditation audio files” I can play to help me get to sleep and help me stay asleep.  I’ll give them a try.  I asked her if they were the same as the ones Paul listens to and she gave me a very clear and distinct “No!” in response.  Different characters, different motivations, different parts to play.  So, different sort of meditation audio files.  Alrighty then, I won’t be sneaking a listen to any of his files.  And I won’t let him sneak a listen to any of the ones she sends me either!  Hah! So there!

Day 140:

The adhesive on the second set of breast forms has finally had it.  The new ones weren’t ready yet.  It’s going to be a couple of days without breast forms.  I should be happy about that.  I’m not.  It just doesn’t feel right without that weight or the shape or the look.  I don’t like it.  I don’t want to go outside now.  I just want to stay in until they arrive.  On top of that I’m so damn horny I can hardly see straight.  Worse, every time I close my eyes trying to deal with how horny I am I keep seeing images of those guys walking by outside Louann’s salon.  Why guys?  And why those two?  Damned if I know, I just am.  

The last time I was there at Louann’s getting my hair done it was really bad.  I’m enjoying my time with her as she works on my hair.  We get to talking about a lot of things.  I don’t think she believed for a moment when she noticed my hardon one time when we’d been talking about this particular couple of studs standing outside her shop.  

They were a couple of her regular clients.  They were a couple as well.  She was telling me stories about their escapades that they shared with her while she was doing their hair.  One of them does porn videos.  The other one works as an escort.  The sex those two have is amazing. Looking at how toned and hard bodied they were and how well they filled out their “baskets” I could believe it.  And yes, she’s taught me what “baskets” are too.  I was thinking about the last time I had sex with my ex-girlfriend and just the whole talk of sex got my own “basket” to start bulging up as well.  Louann noticed and made a point of talking all around it in such a way as to only make it worse.  She has such a dirty, dirty mouth.  I’m sure I was thinking about my ex or about the other women I’ve had sex with and not about those two studs outside.  I’m sure of it.  I thought some time in her quieter back room there with my facial setting and those goggle thingies of hers would help.  They obviously didn’t.  Now I keep seeing those two studs every time I close my eyes and start thinking about sex.

I was still walking funny as I left her salon.  I held my purse in front of me to hide how hard I still was.  Once back at Paul’s place I shut the door to the bathroom, hiked up my skirt, pulled my panties aside and got busy jerking myself off.  I was only imagining how I’d be caressing the breasts of a woman as I ran my other hand over my breasts – over my breast forms.  I wasn’t imagining they were my breasts that I was running my hands over.  I really wasn’t.  It was really weird.   I came so damn hard right then.  Then I got all freaked out and started crying.  It was a real mess.

Paul had come home by then and knocked on the bathroom door when he heard me crying.  What a sight I was.  Still in my dress, my breasts out, my skirt pulled up, my panties pulled aside, my cock still out, my hand covered with my juices, and my splooge all over the bathroom mirror.  My crying had made my mascara run but, my lipstick was still perfect!

It was only later that I realized I should’ve been embarrassed by having turned to Paul and hugged him as I was crying on his shoulder.  Literally crying on his shoulder.  In my heels my head nestles there perfectly.  He felt so warm and strong and… good… as I sobbed.  Paul is such a good guy.  He wrapped his arms around me and held me until I cried myself out.  He even helped me pull myself together and wipe the cum off my hand and get my cock back into my panties and all that.  I cried a bunch more times that night.  There was bourbon involved too.

Day 150:

Damn but, that was hard to write down.  I’m trying to keep it honest here.  This is my journal, after all. Or is it my diary?  Guys can keep diaries too, right?  Or is it just girls who do the diary thing and guys are the journal only types.  Fuck I am so wound up now.  So wound up still.

Paul was a real gentlemen that night.  After I’d sobbed myself out and spilled my guts to him – and after we killed off half the damn bottle of that bourbon – he made sure I drank a couple of glasses of water in a row and then pushed into my bed.  NOT into his bed.  I’m so fucking confused right now.  If he’d pushed me into his bed then I’d not have said no.  I’d have said yes.  Yes to anything he wanted of me as Diana.  Diana, my character who’s part I’m playing in this production.  I’m having an increasing amount of difficulty in keeping that character apart from who I am.  Well, who I was born as?  Who I was before this role started?

I think the hectic pace of things and that I’ve not gotten laid in half a year and then being bombarded with all this imagery of an over the top feminine persona that was me but not me.  Damn, I can’t explain this right.  But if he’d wanted Diana that night I’d have eagerly been her for him.  I was so overwrought.  I’m honest enough to not even try saying “it was the beer” (or the bourbon, for that matter.)  It was tough the next morning.

Well, that is until he handed me a cup of coffee once I finally dragged my ass up out of bed.  Actually, he first looked me in the eye – he put his finger under my chin to make me look him in the eye – smiled, and then punched me in the chest – HARD - and just above my breasts so that they couldn’t cushion the hit.

“You shot your cum all over my bathroom mirror.  Here, drink some coffee and then go clean it up!” he growled at me, warmly.  We both laughed.  Damn, that coffee did taste good.  And the tension was gone right then and there.  I also did clean my splooge off the mirror.

Day 153:

It just struck me and I had to write this down.  When I’d splooged all over the mirror the other night?  I was coming not just on the mirror but on the image in it.  The image of Diana with her breasts out and being groped.  I had just shot my load on Diana.  On me.  On me as Diana.  This is getting super weird.

Day 170:

The therapy sessions are working out great.  There can’t be anyone in Los Angeles that Paul doesn’t know.  His network of these friends “who owe him a favor” is unending.  Within just a week of my losing it in the apartment Paul had me in the office of this shrink friend of his.  As a psychiatrist he’s helped transgendered guys deal with their “issues.  Their “gender dysphoria” or whatever.  I’m not trans.  I’m not gay.  But having someone to talk to about what was going on really, really helped.  And, wonder of wonders, basic “psychological counseling services” were also covered as part of the contract.  That woman who walked away from this role is truly a stupid bint!

It also put me at ease to find out that Paul has been going to the same guy for months now.  I remember, vaguely, Paul getting stressed out a couple months in to his getting on this production.  The delays and changes and everything had gotten to him too.  Then Mr. Simms recommended Paul go have some sessions with Dr. Williams to help sort things out.  I didn’t give it much thought.  Most everyone in the Industry here in LA has at least one shrink!  And besides, Paul seemed to calm right down after that.  So, if it worked for me friend then it would work for me.  And it has.  Mr. Simms is real good to us.  I want to do my best to make him happy with our work for him in return.

Day 190:

Over half a year now and still no photo shoot!  I’m not upset about things at all though.  Dr. Williams has been a huge help with that.  Pretty quick he said I needed hypnosis to help unwind how wound up I was.  Paul said he did the hypnosis stuff as well during his sessions.  I had my doubts but I can’t argue with the results.  I’m a lot less stressed now.  I’m not worried about letting Paul and Mr. Simms make the decisions for me as much as I used to be.  Turns out that was one of the things stressing me out.  I was worried about my making the wrong decisions and that those would screw things up for them and for me.  Now, I realize I just have a part to play, and that they’re the ones calling the shots for what that part is.  My role, as Dr. Williams has helped me focus on, is to play that part of an “an elegant lady from an elegant past era.”  

He did recommend I take some pills to help smooth things out.  Just for a little while.  He’s dealt with a lot of other actors and folks in the Industry so he knows the stress that such productions can bring.  The pills have really helped.  So too has the weekly appointments with him.  Those hypnosis sessions are super!  I always feel more at ease when I’m come out of them.  Can’t remember anything during them but, Dr. Williams says that’s to be expected.

Day 211:

I can’t believe I didn’t see it.  Mr. Simms asked me if I was wearing something extra under my dress.  He was just being subtle in his way of letting me know that I was too visible through the sheerness of the outfit I was wearing that day.  Well, it was my bulge that was too obvious.  I was super embarrassed!  Jimmy, (god bless that man!) was super helpful.  He had this extra padded pair of panties that I squeezed myself into.  They didn’t much throw off the line of the outfit and they gave me the “flat front” we needed for the rest of the shoot.  I’ve got to do something better than that thing as it won’t work for lots of the other outfits I’ll be wearing.  I’d look like I was wearing diapers or something!  And that is definitely not the look for an elegant lady like Diana!

Day 212:

We were sitting at Ms. Cambrai’s studio having some tea after my latest speech lesson.  It must’ve been some new blend or something as it was super tasty.  I asked her about it and our conversation got going and somehow I just felt so comfortable with Ms. Cambrai that I told her what happened on the set the other day.  I felt super embarrassed and awkward talking about my having been so aroused on the set that even Mr. Simms noticed.  But as embarrassed as I was at telling her this it just seemed to flow out of me to her.  I just can’t not tell her whatever things pop into my silly little head when it comes to the problems Diana is running into in being Diana.  And getting a stiffy on the set was definitely a problem for Diana.  She just smiled and wasn’t phased at all. 

She noted that perhaps it was my lack of sexual release was “getting in the way.” She is so elegant in how she puts things.  But, that’s what you’d expect from such an elegant lady teaching other ladies about deportment.  I tried explaining to her that it wasn’t anything that she was doing or that I was thinking anything sexual about her or… well, it was just awkward for me to try and explain it.

She just smiled.  And I melted.  I love when she smiles at me.  She told me to sit right there at the little table in the kitchen area of her studio and drink more of that yummy tea while she went and fetched something from her office there in the studio.  When she came back she had this most wicked and devious smile.  She held this little device thing up in front of me and pressed a button on it and it start buzzing.  “A lady’s little helper!”  She exclaimed.  She was being so naughty!  We both laughed.  Then, without missing a beat she scooted her chair up close to mine, pulled up my skirt and placed that vibrator on top of my oh-so-throbbing-hard cock as it was trapped under those panties.  I was too shocked by this to react.  And the buzzing felt so damn good that I was hardly in a mood to say no anyway.

Then she leaned in and kissed me!  Ms. Cambria!  She kissed me!  She brought that beautiful face of hers right up to mine and then brought her perfectly done lips to my perfectly done lips and… kissed me!  With her other hand she was lightly caressing my cheek.  Her tongue ran lightly along my lips and then pushed into my mouth.  All these months and now she was kissing me!

That was it!  That was all it took.  All those pent up months of no sexual contact and here was this beautiful, elegant, powerful, and commanding woman kissing me!  I climaxed.  Oh how I climaxed.  I would’ve shrieked except her mouth was covering mine as the bliss rose up through my body and up through my throat and into her mouth.  God, it was heavenly!  Even better, she pulled me to her as my orgasm washed its way through me and then ebbed so sweetly.  We stayed like that for a while.  I never wanted to let her go.  It was beautiful.

A lot more happened after that but, even writing this much about it has got me all kinds of flustered and I can’t do much about that now.  So I’m going to have to stop at this point.  But a lot more happened!  Yum!

Day 216:

Despite the months of Deportment lessons, there’s still so much about being a woman that Ms. Cambrai has been teaching me.  The “unladylike bulge” which Mr. Simms noticed the outline of?  Well, I’m now wearing this chastity cage sort of thingie in order to “maintain the proper appearance of an elegant lady.”  I hate it and I love it.  But, it does work.

Day 220:

Dinner was fabulous.  I was flawless.  I think Paul might be jealous.  Mr. Simms seems happy though.

Day 235:

Okay, yesterday was “cleaning day.”  I thought it’d never happen soon enough.  God damn!  It can get intense between my cleaning days.  Ms. Cambrai promised that they’d happen at least once a week.  And she’s lived up to her word.  Let me explain.

After she’d pressed that “lady’s little helper” to my penis and I splooged in my panties, and after I’d “run to the little lady’s room” to clean up the mess I’d made in those panties, she presented me with a solution to “my little problem.”

I came back out of the bathroom to find her holding this little tube and balls thingie.  Her smile was quite devious at that moment.

She said it was a special kind of gaff to “help keep things tucked away that is only proper for an elegant lady to keep tucked away.”  Now, I may not be into all that kinky stuff but I knew a “chastity cage” when I saw one.  She might’ve called it a “gaff” but I knew what it really was about.  And I didn’t want to be putting my manhood into any “chastity cage” even if she did say it was but a “gaff.”  

She had two of them for me to choose from.  She said it would better if I went with the smaller of the two.  But, I made the mistake of letting my ego talk me into choosing the bigger one. 

I tried wearing it for a few days and it just wasn’t working out right.  I still had too noticeable a bulge there in my panties.  Or as Louann told me “Girl, you’re pushing some box there honey!”

So, when I was next back at Ms. Cambrai’s I had to ask her for the smaller “gaff.”  It got super awkward for me when I realized that being that close to her again and with her having to handle “my intimate parts” got them all swelled up such that the tube was not going to come off without doing real damage. Her touching and running her fingers around me there didn’t help.  And she had this wicked gleam in her eyes as she kept on touching me.  That only made my penis swell even more and that started being painful as it was trapped in that tube.  “Oh my, Diana, you look so uncomfortable there, young lady.” she said with such sarcastic pity, “looks like we’ll just have to sit here with your skirt hike up and exposing yourself oh-so-very lewdly until that swelling eases…  If only there was some way to take of that swelling?”

She soon had me pleading for that “lady’s little helper” vibrator thingie.  I again splooged pretty hard when she pressed that little vibrator on my penis.  Her kissing me didn’t help with that.  And when it turned out I’d gotten some of my cum on her fingers she didn’t even give me the time to apologize for it.  Instead, she just pressed her cum coated fingers to my mouth and told me to lick them clean.

I’ve learned from that.  When it comes to anything and everything feminine, Ms. Cambrai knows better than I do.  So, if she says I should wear a smaller “gaff” then that’s what I’ll wear.  And there’s little more feminine that a man wearing a chastity cage to make himself look smooth “down there.”

That “gaff” thingie consisted of a tube I had to slip my penis into and then these separate little compartments for me to slip my testicles into.  She admonished me when I started referring to my ‘cock and balls.’  “Diana, in my presence you will remain a proper elegant lady in your poise and your vocabulary.  Am I quite clear?” she stated in that not-to-be-argued-with way of hers.  Of course, her doing that just really delayed our being able to get my ‘penis and testicles’ into the “gaff.”  I think she planned it that.  Rather, I KNOW she planned it that way.

This “gaff” thingie is made out of some silicon sort of stuff so it’s super flexible.  And it’s got plenty of little holes along its surface.  So it breathes pretty well.  And it even can take getting wet in the shower and stuff.  I can get myself nice ‘n soapy and pretty much keep clean down there with it on.  Takes a bit more to get it all properly dried enough.  I’ve found using my blow drier on it works - but not on hot!  Don’t ask how I found that out! :) :) :)

Anyway, I put my penis in the tube, my testicles in their little compartments, and then fold the tube back in this channel that’s built into the whole thingie.  The channel runs between the little compartments holding my testicles.  Once folded back like that there’s this little clip thingie that holds the tube in place folded like that.  It sounds more complex than it is.  The end result of this is that my “family jewels” are folded and smoothed nicely out of the way.  And the whole assembly has the effect of actually seeming like a woman’s anatomy down there.  Not quite a “camel toe” – Ms. Cambrai would NOT tolerate such a display as that! – but definitely more of a feminine mound that a manly bulge.

Once we finally managed to get me into the set up I was worried that it might crush my nuts – my “testicles” – if I even so much as crossed my legs.  That’s why I chose the bigger of the two “gaffs” she had out for me that day.

Well, again, she was right and I was wrong. The fit of that larger one was a bit more comfortable for me but, yes, it was too obvious.  So, it was back to her for the smaller one.  To help me fit into it she handed me this special lube to use on my “private parts.”  That stuff was super helpful!  After I’d slathered it all over my “penis and testicles” they were easy to slide right in and close everything up.  The lube was kind of icky on my hands so she made me go and wash my hands right off after locking myself away.

At that point, and to ensure I wouldn’t be tempted to pop everything open and jerk.. “pleasure myself,” Ms. Cambrai snapped this little padlock on the latch there in back.  She had just looked me into that “gaff” and, for some damn reason, her doing that turned me on immensely.  Her smile only got bigger as I felt the pressure of my “little solder” trying to stand at attention within the “gaff” she’d just imprisoned it in.

She said she only locked it away because I didn’t have the necessary lube to apply to enable me to reinsert my “private parts” were I to have popped it open and done that self “pleasure” bit.  This lube apparently is this super special hygienic gel stuff that gets absorbed really fast once applied.  Regular lubes, that I would’ve used, were more likely to stay “wet” down there between my folded up and compressed skin.  That could’ve led to germs or infections or stuff.  I saw her point but I think she was really just rationalizing having put me under lock and key.  It wasn’t lost on me that I’d have to be extra special nice to Ms. Cambrai to get her to use that key to unlock me.

Which gets me to the sexy stuff!

As complicated as that “gaff” was to put on, it was even more “complicated” to take off.  Oh sure, just a turn of the key to pop the little padlock – the one she locked on to me is shaped like a heart and it’s super cute! – and then… presto!  My little solder practically jumps right up to attention!  Which is really sweet and all.  Ms. Cambrai just smiles at me knowing what effect she has on me.

But that also means it quickly becomes impossible to get the “gaff” back on to me.  The more we try, the harder my penis gets!  And it doesn’t help that she calls it “my little soldier” and insists I only refer to it as a “penis.”  Both sound, emasculating?  What sort of guy would call his cock a “little soldier.”  But Ms. Cambrai says using a more elegant vocabulary will help me stay in character to better play my part.

Anyway, my “little soldier standing up at attention” would be a problem as I have to take the “gaff” off at least once a week to properly clean my “private parts” so they “stay fresh and sweet like a lady’s private should always be.”

So, her solution to this “problem” was to make her taking my “gaff” off be part of the sexy fun time I now have with her.  I really wish this was time where I could make love to her as I truly wished to.  But, that was also part of the problem.

Ms. Cambrai insisted that, no matter what, I had to “remain in my role for the part I am to play.”  And that means I have to stay as Diana.  Even when we’re making love I have remain as Diana.  So, on the times she announces I need to “make myself pretty and fresh down there,” it means I get to spend the night at her place!  As frustrating as it might be to not make love to her with my penis she ensures that I’m left in orgasmic bliss and that she too has plenty of climaxes of her own to be happy about.

On those “cleaning days” we’ll schedule a later than usual Deportment Lesson time from which I’ll head over to her place and then we’ll wind up making love for hours.  I thought I knew how to please a woman with my tongue.  No surprise, I was wrong.  I’m learning that I’ve been wrong about so many things.  I think it’s a mark of how much more mature I’m getting that I’m not upset or angry or anything when Ms. Cambrai points out one of my flaws or mistakes or errors in judgement.  She simply knows better than I do.  Especially when it comes to everything it takes to fulfill the role of Diana.  And as that means everything about womanhood.  Which, unsurprisingly, means learning just how much I didn’t know about pleasing a woman without using my penis.

As those “lessons” have meant she winds up howling in climax after climax she doesn’t seem to mind.  As I’m pleasing Ms. Cambrai by being such an elegant and proper lady for her, I don’t mind either.  Once I’ve made sure to please her thoroughly, she’ll bring out another of her “lady’s little helpers” and press it to my little soldier there in its “gaff.”  I’m usually so turned on at that point that I’m near delirium and even though the pressure of my little soldier trying to swell out of the “gaff” can be intense, the climax Ms. Cambrai brings forth in me is worth it.  It’s always worth it.

To be honest, I was pretty shocked at how suddenly sexual it’s become with Ms. Cambrai.  She just smiled.  And yeah, I just melted as usual.  “My dear girl, does that mean you want this to stop?”  She can be truly wicked when she wants to.  But, she did answer my concerns.

“As a student, you’ve gone as far as I could take you with studio based Deportment lessons.  You still, my dear, have so much more to learn about being a woman than I could teach you in that studio.  I have to admit, the way you’ve blossomed in your role took me by surprise.  You have truly become Diana and that is a girl who I find too terribly tempting to treat as a mere student.  I found our lessons were becoming entirely too frustrating for me.  I could sense they were for you as well.  Hush… hush child.  Respect your mentor here.  Hush and ‘let me impart the wisdom of the divine feminine upon you!’”  She laughed saying that last part and I giggled at it too.  And I also snuggled myself closer to her as we lay wrapped up with each other in her bed.

“Seriously Diana, you’ve been damn distracting.  And there really wasn’t much more about ‘Deportment’ I could teach you.  You move now as gracefully as any elegant woman could.  You’ve all the poise necessary to take the place of any silver screen goddess from that era.  By rights, your lessons on that level should’ve ended weeks ago.  But I just couldn’t part with you.  And when I saw you in such dire straits I realized that was the perfect time to make the transition.  For all my poise and refined ways I am, as you now know, just as human as any woman.”

“I have my needs, Diana” her voice lowered to a more sultry tone at that.  “So, it was time.  Rather than any awkward parting with needs unmet, I chose to take matters into my own hands and continue to guide and teach you on your journey.  This, my dear girl, is just a continuation of my teaching you to be the elegant lady you need to be for your role.”  She said right before she kissed me again.

Day 241:

What a mess. At least Ms. Cambrai is patient with it all.  That helps.  A lot.  And despite the production delays, I’m keeping it together thanks to the sessions with Dr. Williams.  Those relaxation goggle things are a wonder too!  But things are still a mess.

Day 255:

The adhesive is failing again.  Badly.  Jimmy has said he’s trying to find replacements but the company he got this current set from has gone out of business and the company that made the first set isn’t carrying my size any more.  Damn!

Day 263:

The adhesive holding my left breast gave way this afternoon.  Right in the middle of my ballet class with Ms. Cambrai.  Mr. Simms said there’d be some ballet dance sequences as part of the fashion marketing videos so I needed to know how to ballet dance.  Dance as an elegant lady.  That meant dance lessons with Ms. Cambrai now!  That meant more time with her.  Yum!  She’s even more strict teaching me how to be a proper ballerina and dancing girl than I could’ve imagined.  Oddly enough, I like that.  Especially when I please her with moving so nicely.

Day 270:

Jimmy found some new type of adhesive that should work to at least keep my breast forms on until we can find actual replacements.  He’s such a swell guy for helping me out like this.  I hugged him and gave him a quick kiss on his cheek for it!  He just laughed and hugged my back and told me that “how could I not help out such a pretty lady!”  We both laughed.  So campy, I know.  But, gotta stay in character, right?

Day 283:

Ms. Cambrai was particularly frustrated with my dancing today.  We were doing tango steps today.  I fully understand why she got so frustrated – she was distracting me to no end!  I was wearing this gorgeous red A-line skirt dress with full sleeves.  I’d wanted to wear the halter top one from the new line but it showed too much flesh and I was afraid the seams of my breasts would show.  Jimmy was trying his best but they no longer stayed blended with skin.  I kept telling him it was alright and that I understood.  But I knew he felt bad at how the breast forms kept falling off of me.  I hugged him just the same though and told him it’d be okay.  Even when I’m feeling really sad I want the men around me to still be happy.

Ms. Cambrai that day though?  Oh my!  She was in this divine black pants outfit.  The way those slacks hugged her gorgeous curves was mouth watering.  She had this white blouse on that was just sheer enough to reveal the scarlet bodice she was wearing underneath it.  And on top of all that was this scrumptious bolero jacket that hugged her figure in such an enticing way.  The jacket was open and she moved so beautifully in it all with those movements forcing the jacket open ever so briefly to reveal a flash of her wonderful breasts filling out that blouse.  The matching bolero hat just completed her whole look.  She was stunning.  That was one of the few times I was actually grateful for having that chastity tube locking my “little soldier” away.  Well, grateful that I wasn’t poking her as we danced but I was getting so turned on that the pressure of my little soldier trying to not be so little was getting painfully distracting.

She was heavenly the way she was moving me around as we danced.  Tango is such a sensuous dance form to begin with, and her grace and power and control of me in doing the moves was all going straight to my head – both heads, actually!  I kept missing my steps with her and falling into her arms and lingering too long against her.  And, well, she’d had enough of it!

Ms. Cambrai had already pulled me up sharp several times to snap at me. “Focus, girl!  Focus!” she’d admonish.  I just wilted.  She was so strong and commanding and irresistible.  After the umpteenth time of this she called a break.  I was getting far too flustered and appreciated the chance to sit down and try to compose myself.

She disappeared for a moment and came back with some of her iced tea.  That, and a mischievous grin.  At least it was close to a smile and I love making her smile.  We did some more dancing after I’d finished my tea but I simply could not focus at all.  If the pause in our dance lessons was supposed to have helped it didn’t.  And usually the iced tea she has for me helps clear my head.  Maybe it was just the wrong blend today or maybe nothing could’ve eased my arousal at that moment.  In any event, the fire “down there” was just too fierce.  And she felt so commanding in her outfit.  And she was so distracting in that outfit.  And, she’d had enough.

After one spin where she pulled me to her and then we moved into a deep dip and I was supposed to spring back into another spin away from her as we came up from the dip, I wrapped my arms around her instead and kissed her. It was heavenly.  It was.  For a moment.  I wish that moment had lasted.

When she realized what I’d just done, and it took her a few seconds as she wasn’t fighting off my kisses during them, she again pulled me and started fuming at me.  I’d displeased and never liked that happening.  So I was abashed and tucked my chin down looking at the floor.  My mind had this red lusty haze all through it that her next move caught me off guard.

She surprised me by grabbing my wrist and practically dragging me over to one of the chairs against the wall there in her studio.  She sat down and dragged me over her lap!  Me!  A grown man over her lap.  She quickly had my skirt up over my backside and began spanking me!  Spanking me!  Hard!  She was reddening my cheeks!  I was shocked.  Even as a child I’d never been spanked!

I was thrashing around and kicking my heels up but she held me firm with her other hand.  I was surprised how easily she was able to do that.  I started wailing for her to stop and that she was hurting me.  Well.  She did stop.  For moment.

“You’re making for too much noise for grown woman!  You sound more a like little girl having a hissy fit!  And I know just the thing to take care of that!”

Before I could get my wits about me she’d reached into the pocket of her bolero jacket and pulled out some piece of cloth looking thing – and then she stuffed it into my mouth!  It wasn’t just cloth it was a pair of her panties!  And they were soaking wet with her essence!  She stuffed them into my mouth and then held them there, tightly, as she began spanking me again.

But now she was being different about it.  Her swats weren’t as hard this time.  And she was taking longer between them.  And in between them she was running her hand across my pantie covered derriere.  The swats still stung but now they actually started feeling good as they stung.  The taste of her in my mouth from those panties was heavenly.  And the way she was touching me between those swats.  And how her body felt as I was thrashing around against it.  And how my trapped little soldier felt rubbing against my panties as they rubbed against her thighs.  And her voice was so gorgeous to listen to.  She was saying such lovely things to me.  And telling that I was “such a naughty, naughty girl, and that I needed to be punished for that, and that I deserved to be punished for that, and that I wanted to be punished for that, and that I should ask her to punish me for being such a naughty, naughty girl.” 

I tried telling her that I was.  I tried telling her that I needed to be punished.  But she was holding her balled up panties in my mouth so tightly I couldn’t.  And besides, her juices soaked panties tasted so heavenly stuffed into my mouth like that.  So she kept swatting me and then caressing me and then swatting me and caressing and..  Finally, when I started arching my backside up to her swats and nuzzling her arm with my face as she held her panties in my mouth, finally then did she loosen her grip around my mouth and let the panties fall away.  I blubbered out my apologies and babbled for her to not stop.  “Please Ms. Cambrai!  Please!  Please punish me!  I’ve been a naughty girl and need to be punished!  Please!!!!”

She laughed and said “Well, since you’ve asked so sweetly…” and then began wailing on my buns far more fiercely.  I was seeing stars!  It hurt but it hurt so good.  Not even a moment later she suddenly stopped.  It took me a couple seconds to catch up to her stopping.  She’d pulled me in tight to her.  Her left hand moved from cradling my face to pressing her fingers into my mouth.  I quickly wrapped my lips around them and began worshipping them with my tongue just like she’d taught me to use my tongue to worship other parts of her.  Her right hand suddenly clenched into my ass cheek and her French manicured nails dug sharply into my flesh.  A throaty wonderful and glorious moan escaped her beautiful lips.  She held me like that for an age.  It was heavenly and ecstatic.  Especially when I realized that she’d just climaxed and had done so simply from spanking me I was almost deliriously happy.  I’d pleased her!  I love pleasing her.

We stayed like that as she came down from her climax.  I was still fully aflame and becoming desperate for release.

She took a handful of my flowing hair and pulled me back up off her knees.  She deftly maneuvered me around to face her and pulled me to her between her legs.  Locking me in place with her eyes, she shrugged her way out of her jacket.  And then she unbuttoned her blouse.  I whimpered at this.  I knew it meant I soon have my face against her body.  And, if I was lucky, she would let me worship her gorgeous breasts.  She quickly and smoothly then undid her bra which brought forth her beauties before me.  My eyes couldn’t help themselves and she instantly caught me for it.

She pulled me into her and pressed my face into her bosom.  I sighed with joy.  So engrossed was I at being so enveloped that I didn’t notice how shed used the straps of her bra to bind my wrists together.  Oh, they were held but lightly and I could’ve shrugged out of them easily.  But she done that for its effect on me.  And it had exactly the effect she wanted.

She drew my face away from her glorious cleavage and lifted my chin up to face her.  With her free hand she’d reached into the other pocket of her jacket and pulled out her “little helper” that I barely caught glimpse of before she dived her hand back under my skirt and pushed inside my panties.  She set it against my trapped member, turned it on and then drew her hand back out from it all.  The little vibrator was sending such waves of pleasure through me that it made my eyes flutter.

Grasping me with both hands now, she once again pulled me to her and pressed her wonderful breasts against me.  Cradling my face with her hands she began kissing me.  Kissing me deeply and purring to me as she did so.

“Are you my sweet, sweet girl?” she purred.

“Yes, Ms. Cambrai!!!! Yesssss!   Please, yes!!!!” I panted back to her.

She snaked one arm around me and her hand began caressing my still stinging flesh back there.

“Will you obey me now, my sweet girl?” she purred into my other ear.

“Oh, yes!!!!” I was so close.

She then drew that hand back and brought it down sharply on my already reddened derriere.  The stinging was electric!

“If you obey me I will let you climax, girl.  Will you obey me?  Will you be mine, heart and soul?  Will you give yourself to me?  Will you let me possess you?  Do you belong to me, dear girl?  Are you mine?  Are you my girl?”

Her spankings kept pace with her questions.  She alternated from one cheek to the other.  I found myself flexing my rear as it made the stings of her spankings that much more electric.

“Yes!!!  Yes!!!! I am!!!!   Please!!!!  Please let me be your girl!!!!  Please, please, please…”

She brought one her legs between mine and pressed her shapely foot against my panties and held it tightly against my trapped member.  

“Then cum for me.  Cum like a good girl.  Cum for your lover.  Cum for your mistress.  Cum for your teacher.  Cum like the good, good girl you are for me.  Cum…”

And with that, I rolled over the top and into bliss.  She kissed as my climax boiled through every bit of me.  Kissed me and held me tight and possessed me and ruled me and… Yes.  Mmm… oh yes.

The dance lessons were over for that day.


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